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Living in a bubble (H.Styles)

Living in a bubble (H.Styles)

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WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 7m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Sep 14, 2015
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Fiction
Romance
Her. Leannah. The first time I ever saw her was in the coffee shop. I remember our 'talk'. She was alone. New. She didn't have any friends. And didn't seem to care anyway. She didn't care what others thought about her too. But there was a little drop of sadness in her face, no matter how much she tries to hide it. She was a mountain of endless chatter when someone starts a conversation with her. How do I know? Oh well, It all started with a dare. I was dared by my friends to go talk to her. She didn't seem to notice me anyway, after all I'm like those popular kids at school . And my gang too. I really liked her voice,Her eyes,Her lips, Her innocence, Her shyness, her cuteness, her exciting behaviors, Her sass And just her. She was unlike the other girls. She... She was unique. In a good way.
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Note: I wrote this without proof-reading it, and I was twelve. I am completely sorry if you find this carrot-y, cringe-worthy, and grammatically incorrect--but this was written in my early One Direction obsession--it'd be nice if you bear with me. Or even better; not read this at all. Save yourself. -- It's a little funny actually. The person you don't even want to see again suddenly comes back, and even though you promised yourself multiple times that you will never accept them in your arms again, you know it's just impossible to resist. Especially when that person is your best friend, and the person you fell in love with.

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